


Even Fear, Fears Itself

by Profficient_In_Feels



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alternative Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, BAMF Stiles, Chaptered, Creature!Stiles (Don't want to give it away, Death, Emotional Baggage, Erica and Boyd...Dead, F/M, I can't tag well, Love, M/M, Minor or background Relationships - Freeform, Multi, WIP, emotional turmoil on almost all sides, post season 3B, sorry - Freeform, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-30
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-23 04:53:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2534855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Profficient_In_Feels/pseuds/Profficient_In_Feels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mysterious man arrives after the awakening of the nemeton. Can Derek ever manage to stop thinking of him? Will the man reveal his true intentions?  What is this man? And what the hell is a Stiles? Will I ever be able to write a good summary? We may never know about the summary one, but the others can be found out by reading this fic. ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Thrill Starts

**Author's Note:**

> This is my second fic and I hope you guys like it. I will be posting hopefully every month or so , but please do not hold me to that. I have way to much school work to be worrying about this, but I am because Sterek will always be my first priority. (Unfortunately for my grades.) Hope you guyts enjoy and dont forget Kudos, Comments, Subscriptions. They make the internet go round!

Derek ran through the Beacon Hills Preserve. Deaton had called just a few minutes prior saying something was wrong with the Nemeton. He said he wasn’t sure what it was just that there were weird shifts in the currents. Derek had ran out to investigate immediately, after what had happened with Jennifer he wasn’t about to risk some other crazy darach using its powers. Though he did have somewhere to be and was running, it wasn’t out of necessity, he just enjoyed running. The wolf in him lavished in the feeling of the earth beneath his feet as he zoomed through the forest. He was looking letting the sounds of the forest surround him. The birds chirping and the rustle of woodland creatures scurrying away from the big bad wolf. His wolf found some kind of rush in the way the creatures ran. Respecting him and dashing away in fear. He could smell it coming of them in waves, but the closer he got to the nemeton the more he realized that the cautious run of the animals had shifted. Theyu didn’t run to insure their safety, no...they ran as if something was chasing them and they were utterly terrified. A deer nearly impaled him as he ran the path, the buc jumping from the side missing him by a hair. These animals were no longer scared of him, the Alpha werewolf that owned these woods was being ignored, meaning to these animals he wasn’t as big a threat. His wolf bristled at the notion of something being stronger than him being in his territory, scaring his animals, his woods.

 

Derek was almost to the nemeton and was beginning to feel a little wary. A minute or two away. His heartbeat had sky rocketed and he was sweating, he never sweated, he could run hours like this and never have a single bead grace his forehead, but this was out of fear. He was almost to the little clearing that the nemeton was positioned in. He looked up ahead and saw…..a boy. A boy in a red hoodie sitting in the middle of the stump, picking on a stray thread on his ripped blue jeans. Derek’s human side was terrified, screaming fear in the most primal part of his mind; His wolf side on the other hand was bristling with anger, and slight curiosity. He was in his territory and was causing the woods to go into panic and was sitting her in silence, calmly picking at his jeans.

 

“Why are you in my woods? Who are you?” Derek asked, taking deep breaths through his nose trying to calm down. His heart was racing and he didn’t know why, he’d faced much larger opponents than this skinny pale boy.

 

The boy jumped as if taken unaware, which Derek may or may not have preened at for a moment or two. He turned his face toward Derek and pulled down the hood that had been obscuring his face from view. He had whiskey brown eyes, light brown hair, pale skin which had freckles dotting its expanse and in other instances he might have made Derek pause to admire for a second, but not right now. No, now he was hit with a huge sense of dread he had to push off, whenever the eyes swept over his form. The boy just stared, mouth hanging open slightly.

 

“I asked a question. I am the Alpha of the Hale territory and you are trespassing.” Derek tried again. No answer. The boy, no, man, young as he was he was definitely a man. The man looked with recognition in his eyes, but made no move to say anything. He was idly tracing the rings in the tree with his forefinger. “Answer me, now, or I will rip your throat out,” Derek paused for dramatic effect. “With my teeth.”

 

The mysterious young man threw his head back and that and laughed a deep and throaty laugh. His voice sounded like he hadn’t spoken in months, but still held danger in it. Like a dagger wrapped in silk, when he said, “Trying to scare me? Jokes on you buddy, I’m never not.”

 

Derek felt a little sympathy at that, he didn’t know what he meant, but he did know what it means to always live in fear. He was slowly relaxing a little more, some of the fear draining away.

 

“What do you mean? What are you doing here?” Derek demanded.

 

“You don’t want to hear anything I have to say about myself, trust me. Why are you still here? You should be running, terror should be gripping you.” The man almost seemed teasing in his words, but Derek could feel some other emotion right below the surface. Sad. The boy, man, was sad.

 

“I don’t understand why would I be terrified?” Derek was thoroughly confused and the guy was doing a wonderful job or dancing around his questions. “Answer my questions. Stop avoiding them. Who are you, and why are you here?”

 

“You should be terrified because you should. Period. I am no one to concern yourself with, I am passing through and heard about the nemeton. It was a let down really.” The man stated mysteriously.

 

“Anyone in Hale Pack territory I need to be concerned with.” Derek tried to get a whiff of the boy to see if he could get a clue from anything thing that might be lingering on him. Try as he may, though, he couldn’t smell anything besides the forest around him. He took a step closer.

 

“I really advise you to stay away, okay?” The guy asked in a voice that sounded much too gentle to have a threat in it.

 

“I don’t take orders from boys who trespass.” Derek said accusingly.

 

“Boy! I’m twenty-one.” the man exclaimed. “I’m also not trespassing, you don’t own the nemeton.” He said almost like a petulant child.

 

“No, I just own all the land it’s on.” Derek was getting tired of this.

 

“Whatever, I’ll leave. It was myth anyways.”

 

“What was a myth?”

 

“Nothing. I will be out of this place soon anyways. Don’t worry about me.” He said getting up, uncoordinatedly and brushing off nonexistent dust.

 

“What are you?” Derek asked as the man walked off to the edge of the woods.

 

He turned as if contemplating saying anything, or just walking away, “Stiles.” he said flashing a grin.

“What the hell is a ‘Stiles’?” Derek asked. He’d never heard of any creature called Stiles.

 

The younger man threw his head back and laughed, “My name idiot.” He flashed a coy smile before melting into the foliage, like a shadow.

 

Derek walked over to the stump that was the nemeton to inspect it. He leaned down and sniffed at the space that was previously occupied by Stiles. He breathed, but there was not a trace of scent. It was as if the man had never been there. He would have to ask Deaton about this.

~.~

Derek had spoken to the Deaton about the mysterious creature named Stiles. He described how everything felt of fear. “All the animals were running in the opposite direction and I could smell how terrified they were.” Derek elaborated. “Do you know of anything that could do that?”

 

“There are some myths and stories about certain creatures who could scare a mass of animals, but the real question is why? Why was he planning on making every fluffy creature in the area cower?” Deaton asked while he examined a pomeranian that was laying on the cold metal table.

 

“I don’t know. It didn’t really seem like he even knew he did it. It wasn’t just that, either… he didn’t have a scent, like at all. He said something about whatever reason he was there involved the nemeton and that the myth wasn’t real?” Derek was thoroughly confused himself, he didn’t know why he took such an interest into this weekly monster, maybe it was the way he seemed sad, like he lost something. That, Derek could relate to. It took a lot to pique Derek interest, but this creature definitely managed it with minimal effort. “He seemed...sad.”

“I’ll ask some of my informants if they know anything about a stray creature that could’ve been headed this way. Can you tell me what he looked like?” Deaton asked grabbing a pad and paper, presumably to jot down the description.

“He was about my height, give or take. He had pale skin, brown hair, brown eyes. Moles. He had a lot or moles.” Derek finished.

“Hmmm.” Deaton hummed in an inquisitorial manner. “Anything else?”

“He had a read hoodie and blue jeans, if that helps any.”

“It might, I’m not sure.” He finished writing on the pad and went back to the dog. “If you remember anything else tell me. Oh, and Derek.” Derek turned around from where he was getting ready to head out the door. “Don’t go looking for this man. I don’t know what he is, but all the possibilities as to what he could be are things best left in the dark where they originate. He may look young and may seem harmless, but would the Devil make himself ugly if he was to persuade unsuspecting victims?”

Derek stood there a moment before he nodded and made his way to the Camaro. The boy posed a mystery, but Kate had been a mystery too, and if that isn’t warning enough to stay away he wasn’t sure what was. A deep pull of guilt and shame pulled in the pit of his stomach as he thought about his family and Kate. He quickly dismissed the thought before he could dwell on it longer.

He pulled out his phone to send a message to the pack telling them to meet at his loft tomorrow around five in the afternoon. He was going to tell them about the stranger in their territory, they had to be on the look out, no one knew what this person was capable of or what their intentions were. It could be nothing, but he’d feel better with his pack on the lookout.

He pulled into the parking lot of his apartment, shutting his door and hearing the beep of his Camaro locking. Derek walked in and took the elevator up to the top floor. He unlocked the door and was ready to collapse into bed, which meant of course Cora was there and bouncing of the walls.

“I hear we could have a new big bad in town.” Cora mentioned casually, but with some a light of excitement in her eyes. “What this time?”

“We don’t know Cora and I’m not telling you anymore, because I’m tired. You’ll know more tomorrow at the pack meeting.” Derek said kicking off his shoes and making his way to his bedroom. He made quick work of brushing his teeth and collapsed onto his bed in his underwear. Before he drifted off into slumber he thought once more of Stiles. Even though he could be dangerous beyond belief something about him was just so alluring. Stiles was a mystery that, given the chance, Derek would try to solve in a heartbeat.

~.~

“Why are we here?” Lydia asked. “I had to cancel a facial for this. Whatever is happening this week can’t possibly be enough that I have large pores.”

“You couldn’t have big pores if you personally tried. Your body would deny you, just to spite yourself.” Allison said from where she was currently sitting in Scott’s lap in a lounge chair.

“Oh, sweetheart, trust me looking like this is a challenge, even for me.” Lydia smirked as she grabbed a seat on the couch pulling out a nail file.

“Everyone, shut up we have an actual issue, so stop worrying about what your complexion.” Derek interrupted.

“What is it?” Scott asked, brow furrowing in concern. “Not more alphas right? Or a new darach those were hard enough as it was.”

“That’s it we don’t know what he is. I just wanted to warn you guys, so be on the look out.” Derek addressed all of his pack. Isaac and Cora seemed intent on what he was saying, while Lydia, Allison, Scott, and Danny seemed to be lost in each other or in Danny’s case his IPhone. The twins were too busy arguing to pay attention, but after he mentioned the threat they all focused more on him.

Lydia looked up from filing her nails with a calculating look on her face, “Wait, you said ‘he’ have you seen him?”

Damn it, Lydia. “Yes, he was at the nemeton yesterday. Deaton mentioned something being off in the currents of energy flowing from it.”

Danny’s attention was strictly on Derek now. “Well, tell us more, idiot.” Everyone looked up at him expectantly.

“He didn’t seem to dangerous, but you could feel the power coming off him in waves. We have no idea what he is, if you even think you see him go in the opposite direction.” Derek answered, he knew he was being vague, but for some reason he felt almost protective of this alluring man.

“Oh, come on. How do you expect us to be able to avoid him if we have no idea what he looks like?” Ethan asked, before punching Aiden in the arm.

Derek grimaced, he hadn’t seeing reason. “He was wearing a red hoodie, blue jeans. Uh, pale skin, brown hair, brown eyes. A lot of moles.”

“So…” Danny started. “Was he hot? Did your wolf scream mate, huh?”

 

“No,” Derek growled out.

Cora gasped, “That’s his pining face. THAT’S HIS PINING FACE!”

“Oh my God!” Lydia actually looked surprised for once. “You totally liked him. You have a crush.”

“Oh my God!” Allison’s face had lit up like it was Christmas. “You have a crush on a bad guy!”

“He always has fallen for people who are no good for him,” Aiden smirked and Lydia threw her nail file at him.

“Shut up, Aiden. You feel for someone way out of your league.” Lydia threw her curls over her shoulder and smiled brighter than the sun.

“I don’t have a crush!” Derek said getting up out of his chair and heading to the kitchen to avoid all these accusations. He didn’t like a boy he had just seen. Okay, so maybe he had big brown eyes that were the best shade ever. Or, maybe his shoulder were broad and strong and his mystery act was doing it for him, but he could find someone attractive without having a crush. Derek then thought of his pale skin and how easily he could mark it as his.

From the kitchen Derek heard Scott say, “Wait, I thought he was straight.”

“Scott,” Allison said. “You’re straight right?”

“Well, yeah.” Scott said, if a little indignantly.

“You know that one time, with Isaac?” Everyone gasped and Danny and Ethan snickered. “I mean, it was a threesome, yet you two became more focused on each other than me.” Derek could practically heard Isaac and Scott blush.

“Okay, I get what you’re saying. Just, stop.” Scott pleaded. More snickers.

“I mean it wasn’t any trouble, I enjoyed the view just fine.” Allison was just being cruel now.

“Oh God. Stop now. Someone kill me now!” Isaac moaned from the couch.

“Stop your moaning.” Danny said and Isaac looked grateful for exactly three seconds until he said, “You’ll turn Scott on.” Everyone burst out laugh, not being able to hold it in anymore.

 

Convinced the conversation’s focus was successfully off him, Derek came back in to the loft’s living room. “Okay, now we have successfully embarassed at least three of the pack everyone out.” Derek shooed everyone towards the door. “I need to do a perimeter check, get home and watch each others back. We need to be careful.”

“Do you need to be doing a perimeter check? You said yourself, it’s dangerous. I should go with you.” Scott said as Allison was pulling him out.

“I’ll be fine. If I need you I’ll howl.” Derek headed out the door with them to his Camaro.

“You sure? We wouldn’t mind.” Isaac said getting into the car with Scott and Allison. Allison reached over bringing Isaac’s ear close to her lips and man, he wished he couldn’t hear that. “You know, what? Nevermind.”

Peter was suddenly right behind him. He had been hiding out upstairs and had made his way down after the pack meeting was over. “Remember kids use condoms. Though from what I heard the participants in this particular act won’t be able to get pregnant.”

“Derek, keep your creeper uncle on a leash.” Scott yelled from the back seat flushing.

“Again, from what I hear leashes are used just not on me.” Peter’s smile was down-right, well, wolfish.

“We’re out before he can say anything more, or you guys find anything out you don’t need to.” Allison said to the group. They all left quickly after to whatever it was they were going to do. In Scott, Isaac, and Allison case some kind of weird exhibition love triangle. There was no illusion in what the others doing. Ethan had left with Danny and Aiden with Lydia.

“I’m going to the preserve to do a perimeter check, I won’t be back for a while so if you happen to have someone over make sure they stay in your room or out before I wake up.” Derek walked to his car before he could hear any response from Peter.

He drove quickly, but not too fast he didn’t need a cop asking why he was driving out to the woods in the middle of the night. He was making his way to the clearing that held the burnt out husk when he started to feel a little apprehensive. He didn’t know why, he’d patrolled this land since he was young, but tonight it felt like he wasn’t the apex predator. He was being foolish, he was the Alpha of the Hale pack. He owned this land, both in mystical ties and through human standards. Yet, he felt like he hadn’t since his first few full moons. It was just an overall sense of dread pooling in the pit of stomach.

 

He pulled into the field and shut and locked his car. He exhaled slowly and bounced up and down a few times to rid himself of the nerves. He took off into the woods at full blast, trying to shake off the dread. No matter what happened he just felt unsettled. He was halfway through his perimeter run when he smells it. Smoke. He smells smoke, and burning flesh. His heartbeat ratcheted up to a new extreme. He looked ahead and say his house, burning. Arms waving in the basement window. He tried to run to them, but no matter how fast or hard he ran he couldn’t reach them. He was watching his family die again in front of him and he could do nothing to save them. He heart beat an insistent drum in his chest. All he could hear was his heartbeat and screams, but then a new sound entered his mind. Laughter was ringing out in a high pitched voice. Giggling maniacally at the death of everyone he loved.

Kate stepped into his field of vision and he felt like his heart was going to explode out of his body. Adrenaline was coursing through him and try as he might he could reach her or the house. He wanted to rip her limb from limb, tear her apart til nothing was left but blood and cartilage.

“Aww. Cub can’t help his pack?” Kate mocked from where she stood, flame, cinder, and screams echoing behind her back. “You’re useless Derek. You can’t help your family, hell you were the one who got them killed.”

 

The scene changed around him and he was suddenly in the vault at the bank. Erica and Boyd laying on the ground. “You can’t protect your pack, no matter how hard you try you always fail.” He watched as Erica got up and rushed Kali. The alpha snapped her neck easily. He tried to scream for her, but he couldn’t. He reached to help only to find Boyd in front of him, his claws embedded in his chest. “You did this to me, Derek. How could let me die? How could you let her die? Everyone is dead because of you, look around.” Boyd fell to the ground. Derek looked around. His pack was all lying on the ground in various states of dismemberment, bodies tore up, or bones broken until you could discern what went where.

 

At some point Derek had sunk to his knees, tears in his eyes. He looked up at Kate who was a mere three foot away. He tried to slash out, but he was too weak. He had no pack, no family. He was the reason they were dead.

“You think you’re a good alpha? You couldn’t even to duties as beta. Everyone is dead!” Kate screamed. “Now you’ll join them.” She reared back a broadsword and Derek closed his eyes and waited for his fate. “You’re nothing, but a monst-”

Derek felt a hand on his shoulder and flinched from the touch. It didn’t inflict pain though, so he slowly opened his eyes. There stood Stiles looking absolutely horrified.

“Oh my God. Derek, I’m so sorry.” Stiles dropped to his knees in front of him. Cradling his face in his hands. Stiles looked worse for wear. His face and clothes were covered in dirt and he had a lot of blood covering, but no visible wounds. “I didn’t mean to do it I swear. I don’t have control of it.” Stiles was wiping away sweat and tears from his face and Derek tried to get a grip on himself, he’d been terrified before and pushed it aside. He could do it again.

“How do you know my name?” Growled out. He felt like he’d just run a Iron Man. His body was exhausted and his heart was beating way over what was normal for a werewolf. He naturally had a faster heartbeat, but this was like heart-attack speed.

“Huh? Oh, I...well. There is only one alpha in this area, and I always research before I go anywhere new.” Derek supposed that made sense. His words were just starting catch up with him.

“Wait, what do you mean you’re sorry? I-” Derek was cut off by the sound of a gunshot.

“Shit! We gotta go!” Stiles yanked Derek up, who followed wordlessly. Still slightly stunned and confused as to what happened and was currently happening. Stiles pulled him along, running at a brutal pace. Derek, even as a werewolf, was struggling to keep up. An arrow shot past him, a mere foot away from his head. The sound of guns firing behind them and bowstrings snapping, plus the splinters of wood around them, snapped him out of his stupor and he yanked back on Stiles arm stopping him for a second.

“What the hell is going on?!” Derek asked.

“Hunters now, please, before I’m dead?” He yanked back trying to get Derek moving again. Derek stood his ground and turn to the hunters, coming from a distance.

“Step aside, son,” said a man with a salt and pepper beard. “You could get hurt.” Derek had sheltered Stiles behind him.

“I’m the Alpha of the Hale pack and this territory you are on. This man is under my protection.” Derek stated and let his eyes bleed red in warning.

“A werewolf? Just give us the boy and we’ll be gone in a week’s time.” The man said, his men and women behind him not lowering their weapons at all.

“You will leave, but not with him. I want you out of my land. This is private property and you are trespassing. Leave before I call the cops.” Derek had decided to take a more human approach to this one predicament. Stiles was breathing hard behind him, hand gripping his arm as if it were a life line. Something Derek took more pleasure in than he should’ve.

“No need for that. We will leave, but don’t expect this to be the last you see of us. We will have the boy and he will pay for what he has done.” With that they lowered their weapons and walked back into the woods and Derek listened until the last heartbeat and rustle of leaves were out of range before turning on Stiles.

“Hey, thanks man. I know I don’t know you that well, but anyone who saves me from a gruesome death is okay in my book.” Stiles was beaming at Derek.

 

“Why do you have hunters after you?” Derek demanded.

Stiles’ face fell immediately and his eyes drifted to the forest floor. “Can we not talk about that? I mean, come on. There is literally no reason for you to be interested so…..I’ll just take my leave.” Stiles started backing up, his knees buckled and Derek caught him, inadvertently pulling them chest to chest. He looked into those big brown eyes for a few moments and Stiles stared right back. His gaze flickered down to those cupid bow lips. Then Stiles coughed in his face awkwardly and pushed away.

“So….again. Leaving.” Stiles said. He stepped around a root and his knees buckled again. “Woah, head rush.”

“Did you get hurt?” Derek had rushed over and helped Stiles back to his feet and was checking him over for injuries. He looked at Stiles’ whole face and noticed for the first time how sweaty he was, and the flush that was high on his cheeks.

“Uh….” Stiles’ were slightly out of focus when he said, “An arrow nicked my thigh, but it should’ve healed by now.” Stiles looked down to where he had a thin slice through his pant leg. He pulled the hole open and there was a gash about four inches long with red veins snaking from it. “Shit.” Was what Stiles decided his last word was going to be before he passed out in front of Derek.

Derek grabbed Stiles and almost recoiled at the heat that was coming off him. He braced himself for the scorching flesh before he threw him over his shoulder and took off running towards his car. He had to get Stiles to Deaton. If he knew what Stiles was or what was poisoning him he could help, but right now he need to get him to the resident aficionado on all things paranormal.

Derek wasn’t too far out if he went in a straight line, so in a mere five minutes he had made it back to him Camaro, throwing Stiles’ limp body into the passenger side before moving around to the driver’s side. He yanked out his cell phone as he started the car, feeling his baby purr under his hands. He hit speed dial for Deaton and waited while it rang. Derek looked over at the person beside him. Why was he doing all this? He hadn’t even thought about leaving him to the hunters. He had assumed responsibility of him. Damn it, if he took responsibility it meant his pack and him would be liable for anything this kid has done or will do. Still, there was something about him that just screamed to Derek to protect.

He was so engrossed his own thoughts he didn’t even hear Deaton’s voice on the other line. “Huh? Oh, Deaton.”

“Derek? Is everything okay? You normally never call my personal line unless it’s life threatening.” Derek could hear the concern in his voice.

“Well, I need some expertise here. The man who had been in the preserve the other day? I ran into him tonight, while I was doing a perimeter check.” Derek informed as he reached over to feel Stiles forehead to feel if he had gotten any warmer.

“Oh?” Deaton actually sounded surprised. “Did he attack you? Are you hurt?” Derek could practically hear the man mentally checklisting all the herbs and medical supplies he had. Which he would need apparently, he thought as he looked at Stiles. His breathing was becoming labored and where his shirt had hiked up from him unconsciously slumping in the seat he could see red veins over lean abs.

“No. Not exactly. He was being hunted and I stepped in. Anyways he was cut by an arrow and is unconscious. I have no idea how to help him. Hell, I don’t have a clue what he is, let alone how to help.” Derek stated.

“What do you mean you stepped in?” Deaton asked suspiciously.

“I….well.” Derek stuttered out.

“We’ll talk about this later right now get him to my clinic. I’ll have to run some tests. Until I can determine what he is I can’t do anything to help him. It could end up only hurting him worse.” Derek heard the tinkling of glass jars and vials as Deaton set them up. “Tell me is he bleeding black?”

“No, veins are spreading from the site, but its not black like wolfsbane. It’s more of an angry red color.” Derek told Deaton.

“Hmm. That’s…..interesting.” Deaton answered cryptically. “That’s rules a lot out. One more thing. Is he running a fever or cold and clammy?”

“Hot. Like fire.”

“Very interesting.” More cryptic. “Okay, get him here quick. I need to get my hands on him to tell anything more.”

“Sure, be there soon.” Derek answered, before he hung up his phone. Should he call the pack? Would they need to know about this? Nah. He’s unconscious and he’s not really a threat is he? Then again, the hunters were after him for some reason. He’d wait for Stiles to wake up and then if he thought he was a risk he’d call the pack.

With that decision made he focused back on the road and drifted in and out of focus as he thought about what had happened in the woods. Why had he seen all those things? It seemed like every single word or phrase, every scene or sight he encountered in that hallucination was a fear that was deeply embedded in his soul. Everything was straight out of his most hellish nightmares. Then Stiles had appeared and yanked him out of that vision. What had Stiles been saying? He could barely hear him over the beating of his own heart. He tried to think back to that little bit of time before he calmed down enough to process what was happening. It was only the hunters, a unusual constant in his life, that brought him down to reality. Everything before had been meaningless words passing through his brain. He needed to remember what Stiles had been saying.

Stiles groaned as the Camaro came to a stop in the parking lot of the clinic. Derek rushed out and to the passenger side, slingling it open and, wrapping Stiles up in a bridal carry getting him in the door.

“Deaton, come open this damn counter.” Derek growled out.

“Calm it, Derek. Come set him on the table.” Deaton said guiding them into the back room where he directed Stiles onto a metal table. “Where is the wound?” Derek pulled the jeans away from the gash on his lower thigh.

“Go get me that water bottle and gauze. I need to clean it before we go any further.” Derek walked over to counter and grabbed the water and the gauze. He turned around to Deaton cutting the pants off the injured man. If it hadn’t been a serious setting he would have either bust out laughing or sprang a boner. He couldn’t be sure, Stiles was wearing black and yellow batman boxershorts. The bat signal right over the (very impressive, but again not the time) bulge. He shook his head out of the stupor seeing Stiles’ groin and muscled thighs sent him in and brought the supplies over to Deaton.

“It’s some kind of infection. Similar to wolfsbane, but this is doesn’t make sense. I don’t know what could be poisoning him.” Deaton was cleaning out the deep gash. “Wait, get me the tweezers.” Derek hastily grabbed them and handed them to the working physician who stuck them in the cut without a seconds hesitation. Derek flinched and Stiles groaned out in pain.

“Aha!” Deaton exclaimed, pulling out some small fibrous black petal. “Oh my God.” Now, Derek was worried, Deatons air of stoicism is better than Derek’s and here he was looking in complete awe. “I think I know what this is. Get me the microscope, please, Derek.”

Derek brought over the microscope where Deaton placed the petal on a slide and put it under the eye. “Tacca Chantrieri.” Deaton whispered. Derek didn’t think he had much more patience for confusion tonight.

“What is that?” Derek gritted it out in frustration.

“Nothing good. Nothing good at all.” Deaton answered.

“For Pete’s sake-Do you have what you need to be able to heal him or not?” Derek was exasperated and Stiles was starting to look worse. He was gripping the edge of the table in his sleep.

“Yes, I do. It’s very rare, I’ve kept some, but very little. You see I haven’t seen his kind in over twenty years. I knew one, the only one of her kind I thought.” Deaton reached into a cupboard and pulled out a jar of violet-black petals. He then proceeded to unscrew the lid and throw it into a bowl where he crushed it up. He took out some strange liquid that looked a little like blood. He took out one last vial of clear liquid. Derek breathed in through his nose and was hit with the scent of a sickly sweet smell, iron, and salt. It smelled a lot like sea water, but he could tell it wasn’t. He breathed deeper. Tears. He was pouring tears into the concoction. He wondered what the flower was, was it like wolfsbane to whatever Stiles was? Wait, what was Stiles?

“Wait, what is Stiles?” Derek’s words mirrored his thoughts.

“You learnt his name? Did he tell you?”

“Yes, he did. Now what is he?” Derek was dying to know.

The Doc sighs. “I don’t think it’s my place to tell you that, Derek. He’s very rare, you know. Information like that can be dangerous.” With those words ringing in Derek’s ears. Deaton walks over and sucks the sludge up into a syringe. He grabs Stiles’ arm and inserts it into the large vein running through his elbow. A few moments pass where nothing happens and Derek holds his breath, then Stiles shot up with a huge shaky inhale.

“Woah, headrush.” Stiles giggled some.

“Hello, Stiles,” Deaton held out his hand to shake. “I’m Deaton.” Stiles looked warily at the hand before he took it.

“Well guys, I think you dearly for saving me from death and hunters and any number of whatever happened, but I must be going. People to see, things to run from.” Stiles jumped down from the table, steadying himself on the steel platform and making his way towards the front of the store.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Derek says you are being hunted, I think you should explain what happened to make them hunt you.” Deaton says in his ridiculously sensible voice.

Stiles sighs and sits back down. “It’s nothing to be proud of. I’d prefer you guys just take it as it is. I just need to hide away until it’s settled some and then I can get out of your hair.”

“Stiles, I don’t think that’s a good idea. That was the Calaveras. My mother had dealings with them, they are much more ruthless than the Argents.” Derek said. “The only way you are getting out of this town is if you can convince you are not at fault or you have a small army to protect you as you make your way out.”

“You offered him your protection, if I’m correct?” Derek nodded. “You do realize that the Calaveras are going to take that seriously. If he is under your protection they are going to either back off, or start a war.”

Derek couldn’t have a war on his hands. Jeniffer had hit them hard and he wasn’t sure the pack was up for an all out war with hunters. Still, he felt he had to protect Stiles. He wasn’t sure why the creature had made such an impression on him, but he had nonetheless. He came to a decision. “You can live in the loft with me, my sister, and my uncle. You can stay there as long as you need, but I won’t risk the safety of my pack for you. If the Calaveras plan to start a war, you’re on your own.”

“Derek, I don’t need charity-” Stiles started before Derek cut him off.

“It isn’t charity I offered you protection, you will use it until you can be on your way safely. Got it?” Derek asked with finality.

Stiles seemed to ponder it and Derek could smell a bitterness that came off him that he couldn’t place the emotion. Stiles seemed to come to a conclusion. “Okay.” One word and they made their way out to the Camaro, thanking Deaton for his services.

It was a long and awkward, silent ride to the loft. Derek had never been happier to see his own apartment than after sideways glances at the man beside him just see him quickly look away. He pulled into a parking spot and got out. “You can sleep on the couch, there isn’t many rooms anyways and the ones that are there are either taken by me, my sister, or Peter.” They make their way up using the elevator, Stiles hanging on to his every word. It feels kind of nice for someone to pay that close attention. The pack usually pays attention, but not the way Stiles does. Then again for all he knew Derek could be leading him into a slaughterhouse, so it makes sense to pay attention to everything.

“I know this probably isn’t the best time, but thank you. If there is anything I can do for you in return I’d happily do it; just say the word.” Stiles says and Derek can think of a few things he’d be happy with Stiles doing for him…..or to him. He settled on something more mundane.

“If you are going to stay with me, I should know what you are or at least what you did to make you hunter-bait?” Derek asked in a hopefully authoritative voice and sounded less like he was so hopeful.

Stiles sighed before saying, “I killed my father.” Derek stood there in shocked silence. This person who Derek felt such a connection with had killed...his own father. Stiles went into a daze as he began again. “He was a wonderful man. Sheriff of a small town, it was just me and him for a long time. My mother passed away when I was eight years old. She was an amazing person, too. After she passed he just kind of….broke. He started drinking and it took a few years before he pulled himself together. I tried to take care of him, but come on, I was a kid. I could barely make cereal, which needless to say, we ate a lot of.” He seemed to snap back to the present with the ding of the elevator. “Anyways, that is the past and that is where it should stay.” He strode out leaving Derek staring after him.

‘That man is more of a mystery every second’ Derek thought as he walked forward to show Stiles to the apartment. He killed his father, Stiles killed his own father. He didn’t seem like the type of person to kill anyone, let alone a person he spoke so highly of. He reached Stiles and began opening the door. He started to turn the key just as Cora opened the door and growled at Stiles.

“Who are you? Why are you here?” She gritted behind elongated teeth. Stiles stumbled back some.

“I’m Stiles.” He said regaining his cocky confidence. “I like long walks on the beach and aged wine. Who are you?”

Cora growled a little louder and made a move to step closer, before Derek could stop her and threw him up to the wall. Growling in his face and trying to get him to submit. A flicker of panic flashed across his face before his eyes went completely black like glassy onix, and Cora dropped to her knees. Stiles fell with her staring into her glowing amber ones with pools of dark. Derek could smell the terror rolling off Cora and it spurred him into action, he lunged forward and grabbed his sister. Growling at Stiles like a cornered animal. The inky blackness drained from his eyes and Stiles shrunk back. He look as if he was an animal of prey being chased by a predator. He shrunk his body into the wall, and hid behind his arm and legs he had brought up to his chest. Cora cowered further into his chest shivering.

 

“Where is he? Make him stop, Derek. Why is Deucalion here? I thought I had escaped.” She wailed and sobbed.

Derek shushed her and tried to calm her down. “What did you do?!” Derek said to the frightened form.

“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to.” Stiles kept repeating the mantra more to himself than to Derek. He didn’t look like he was present at all, he was just whimpering and repeating his plea for forgiveness. Derek help Cora close and reached out to touch the quivering man.

“Stiles? Are you oka-” his hand touched Stiles and the man scrambled further away.

“Don’t! Don’t touch me!” Stiles screamed. He looked up at Derek, tears running down his face. “Not again!” He shouted before it tapered off into little whispers as he hugged himself and rocked back and forth. “Not again. Not again. Never again! Never again!” Derek didn’t know what to do. His sister was still latched onto him and didn’t seem to be letting go. He couldn’t deal with them both, he made a decision and decided that his sister was more important at the moment and picked her up and carried her to her room.

“Don’t let him touch me again, Derek. They always touched me. Make them stop!” She wailed and beat against her chest as he opened the door to her living chambers. She turned in his arms and saw the bed. She renewed her efforts to get free. “NO!” She screamed. “NO! STOP!!!”

Derek shushed her, reassuring her she was safe and with him. “You’re not with them anymore. You’re with family, shh.” He laid her down on the bed, she gripped the sheets to herself and cried. It took a few minutes of petting and reassurance before she was able to drift off to sleep. He wondered what Deucalion and the other Alpha’s had done to her while they had her. He thought of how she had reacted to the bed, how she had seemed frightened of what was going to happen to her there. He thought he might understand now, but he is not going to think about of it ever again. What happened to her wasn’t anything she would like broadcasted and he definitely wouldn’t like to broadcast it, so he made his way back down to attend to Stiles.

He stepped down the stairs, his boots making a satisfying clack-clack-clack. Stiles was a mess, his tears had caused tracks down his face and, though he wasn’t crying anymore, his eyes were still red and he was snivelling. He hadn’t come into the the apartment, just sitting against the wall looking for the most part completely defeated. Derek approached cautiously and nodded beside him, asking permission. Stiles glanced up and nodded. A small thing, nothing more than a meek, fraction of an inch. Derek leaned back against the wall and slid down beside Stiles. He wasn’t meeting Derek’s eye, looking determinately at the stone of the ground as if it held all the answers to life’s conundrums.

“What was that?” Derek asked as he tried to catch the eye of the quivering man.

“You know that time earlier today in the woods where you saw whatever it is you saw?” Stiles asked rubbing the back of his neck.

“That happened to her?” Derek thought of how terrifying that experience was. “Wait….does that mean you did that to me?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Stiles exclaimed finally looked at Derek. “I was scared and running for my life, how do you expect me to exert what little control that I have in a situation like that?”

Derek figured that was a pretty valid answer, but he still had questions. “What are you?”

Stiles sighed. “I’m… well.” Stiles stood up and and seemed to gather himself, pumping out his chest as if saying to himself that if he was going to say this he was going to do it right and say it with some semblance of pride. “I’m the bogeyman.”

Derek snorted, because that was literally absurd. “Hey that is rude, do not laugh this is a serious matter, okay? I mean I’m not The Bogeyman. Just… one of them.”

He wasn’t joking? God, why was Derek’s life so freaking confusing? Bogeyman seriously? “What does the even mean?”

“It means I feed on fear, and I don’t like to do it. It’s how I killed my father. I came into it this… curse,” He spat the word like it was venom in his mouth. “when I turned eighteen and I was just so, hungry. My father found me in my room on the floor, I was screaming. My stomach was burning, churning and it just hurt so bad. I looked at him and suddenly he was on his knees screaming.” Derek didn’t realize when Stiles had started crying, but a sob racked his frame as he hid his face behind his hands. “I saw it all. He never had a very good heart. I tried to get him to eat healthy, even had the whole town keep their eyes on him, but still he never had a very good heart. I looked into his eyes and I saw… me and my Mom.” Another sob and the word ‘Mom’. “We kept saying things to him like ‘It’s your fault I died’ or ‘You’re an awful father. You never could take care of me. I don’t need an alcoholic for a father.’ I tried to get to him, but...his heart gave out. Then, my stomach didn’t hurt anymore. The autopsy said that he died of fear induced cardiac arrest.” He drew in a shaky breath.

Derek had the stupid urge to hug the boy until his sobs quit. He wanted to hug him and make all the bad feelings go away and all that was left was happiness. He knew he couldn’t for two reasons, one he barely knew this guy and he doubted he wanted an armful of alpha right now. Two, he was pretty sure Stiles was pouring out his heart to him and he didn’t want to be insensitive and make a move during this. Instead he stood up and place a reassuring hand on his shoulder and said, “You can sleep on the couch. I’ll get the extra blankets.” Derek wasn’t sure if that was the correct way of handling that, but he hoped Stiles could see that the couch and his not mentioning anything about Cora was a peace offering.

“Thanks,” Stiles said meekly and walked into the loft giving it an appraising look and wiping at his eyes and nose, sniffling slightly. He walked over and jumped onto the sofa bouncing up and down to test the springs. His look turned serious, “”I can understand if you want me out of here soon. At anytime just say the word and I’m out.” He looked at Derek with those pools of amber that he couldn’t believe had previously been as black as a moonless night.

He thought about the way Stiles had looked at him, like he was surprised he hadn’t run away screaming when he found out what Stiles had done. He could relate to Stiles. “It won’t be an issue. Stay as long as you need.”

“I’m dangerous, Derek.” He said to his retreating form. “ My mother told me something when I was younger: ‘Never trust someone who can’t trust themselves.’” Derek thought about that and decided, no. He wasn’t going to run from a boy who was so much like himself. This was his chance to help someone and he wasn’t about to let that opportunity pass him up.

“Go to sleep, Stiles. The pack is coming over tomorrow.” Derek thought he could hear the gulp from his way up the stairs. He got dressed for bed after he had thrown down the blankets and a pillow to Stiles. Now he lay in bed listening to the beating heart that was slowing to a rhythm that lulling him to sleep. His eyes drooped and his mind cleared out of all thoughts, until he was in the sweet embrace of sleep.

****~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[My Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ifanboyathighseacauseshipsduh)


	2. The Darkness Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see some of Stiles past on the run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For denelian who made me feel bad for leaving you all hanging! I am so sorry about the wait, school, finals, relationship drama, all relate into too tired me to write a fanfiction, when I have to write an essay instead. I am so sorry though, still. Please don't leave me!

Stiles exhaled slowly and closed his eyes and tried to sleep. He tossed and turned trying to get comfortable, but it was no use. His pillow was back at the hotel he had been staying at, which at this moment, was probably being ransacked by some of those creepy spanish hunters. He turned over onto his back and stared at the crossbeams on the ceiling. He can’t believe he just said all that to an almost complete stranger. Granted he’s a very attractive and muscle-y stranger, but usually that only constitutes a quick fuck and none of that feelings stuff. He hadn’t told anyone about what happened with him and his father and here comes Derek stripping him bare of all his emotional armor. He hadn’t cried this much since the day it happened, sitting in the police station, deputies caught between questioning him and comforting him for the loss of his father and their sheriff. He missed his dad, he felt bad for all the times he made his dad worry where he was at or what he was up to. It was just hard to have the sheriff as your dad. People knew and no one wanted to do anything with a kid who could with one word destroy any exploits they could get up to. It was lonely sure, but he always had his dad. He might not have been the best friend for a kid throughout his entire life, but he tried and he loved him for it. Now, though, he truly was alone, and his dad wasn’t coming back. It was all his fault. 

He was so lost in his own grief that he barely noticed the sound of a lock click coming from the big metal door that took up a big portion of the wall. He was laying there as it slid open and two men slid in. One pushing the other up against the wall with a resounding thud. That caught his attention, he looked over slowly trying not bringing attention to himself. What he saw he wasn’t sure if it should arouse, frightened, or make him cringe. One man had the other one up against the wall, grinding together, not in a very gentle way at all. It would seem as they were fighting if it wasn’t for the moans and obvious hard-ons they both seemed to be sporting. The guy who had up against the wall, a tall man who was thinner than the other with a salt and pepper beard, pushed off the wall and smashed the other one, this one shorter and more broad with a small moustache and goatee, into the wall beside him. He attacked him again with his mouth and hips, hands groping and searching. Stiles was frozen in shock. He had been laying here trying to sleep when these men burst in, and oh god that hand went too far south. The man on the wall pushed off and began pushing back the other man. They were headed to the couch, oh God. This wasn’t going to end too well. They seemed engrossed with each other, hands rubbing each others crotches and groping their asses. The shorter one who was backing up the leaner one put his foot behind the other one in a particular moment of heat and pushed hard on his chest. Mr. Salt’n Pepper went falling backward with Mr. Goatee clinging to his chest. They fell….right onto Stiles. Stiles let out a small, manly mind you, squeak and tried to get up, but was pinned down by both men. Mr. Goatee flipped over and looked him right in the eye.

“I don’t remember inviting you to this.” The man said inches from his face. “Not that I’m complaining.” 

“Peter!” Mr. Salt’n Pepper exclaimed to well, Peter apparently. 

“What? You don’t think this would make an interesting addition to this little party?” Peter said rubbing at the other man’s erection. Rubbed. His. Erection. While on top of Stiles!

“Well…” Mr. Salt’n Pepper trailed off, unconsciously thrusting up into the hand.

“What’d you say kid? Wanna have some fun. No need to waste all this energy, huh?” Peter said. Stiles actually thought about it for a second before his brain caught up with his body, which at the moment was being groped by Mr. Creep himself. He need sleep if he actually considered that, not that they weren’t attractive, but he was twenty-one and they were probably late thirties, not to mention he was on a complete stranger’s couch after he had been on the run for weeks from the Calaveras. 

“God! Get off me creepers.” Stiles pushed at the chests above him.

“Get you off? I mean we could.” Peter shrugs at Mr. Salt’n Pepper. Peter trails his hand down Stiles’ chest, presumably to his dick. Mr. Salt’n Pepper laughs and pulls Peter off of the younger man. 

“Listen, he’s just playing he wouldn’t do anything you didn’t completely consent with.” Mr. Salt’n Pepper said while helping Stiles up.

Stiles cast an uneasy glance Peter, he didn’t completely trust him, but hey he did get off. Well, not get off, but get off. Not, ugh! You know what forget it. “Sorry, about that.” Peter said and held out his hand. “I’m Derek’s Uncle and you are?” 

“Stiles…” He shook the held out hand.

“This is my...this is Chris Argent.” Stiles didn’t fail to notice the way he tripped over some kind of official term nor did he fail to notice the last name of Chris.

“You’re an Argent?” Stiles asked. He was worried about the fact that a hunter was as close to him as he was, but Derek had said that they were good people, they followed the code. Then again the code was to kill any monster that had killed a human, so he wasn’t completely innocent. 

“Yes, I am.” Chris answered from where him and Peter had sat down on the end of the sofa. He wondered why Derek hadn’t come down from his room, due to all the noises they had made. Then again most of the noises had been coming from Chris and Peter, many of which Stiles would choose not to hear if he could’ve. 

Stiles thought it best not to dwell on the subject only Derek knows what he did and he didn’t want this hunter family to come after him as well as the Calaveras. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Stiles said carefully.

“Have you?” He asked almost as if he was interrogating a fugitive, then again Stiles was a bit of a fugitive. He had killed his father and was on the run from hunters. The police simply thought that the Sheriff had finally succummbed to all those sneaked curly fries and chicken. 

Derek chose that moment to come bounding down the stairs. “Oh god. Okay, Stiles this is my uncle Peter and his….Chris.” There was that pause again it makes you wonder which one has commitment issues. 

“We’ve met.” Stiles says Derek sending a disdainful eye towards the men. 

“What’d you two do?” Derek squinted his eyes at the men.

“Nothing, Nephew. We were simply getting acquainted with your new guest.” Peter smiled lewdly.

“Is that what they are calling harassment these days?” Stiles asked as he turned his attention back to Peter.

“Oh god. Okay, Stiles don’t take it personally, my uncle doesn’t understand what boundaries are, plus he never lost his teenage libido.” Derek descended stairs and joined them at the couch.

“Just because I have an active sex life instead of bottling it up like you doesn’t mean I’ve done anything. By the way, seriously the whole bottling it up, you need to stop. I was hoping we could get you some tail or something, your sexual frustration is starting affect the whole pack.” Peter kind of went of in a tangent about how ‘Derek shouldn’t be holed up in his loft and instead should be banging some chick, or dude, we all know you are bisexual, Derek, don’t look so mortified. Dr. Oz always says-’

“Shut up, Peter.” Chris said and smacked his hand into his side. 

“Seriously though. I need sleep, so I know I’m a guest and I know I’m in no position to make any demands, but can you like all take it to your respective chambers of lust and sins and leave me to sleep, I’d greatly appreciate it.” Stiles says from where he’s sitting on the sofa. His eyes were starting to droop and he felt like he could finally go to sleep. Which should be strange that men having foreplay in front of him would tire him out more than running from freaking hunters through the woods would. What does that say about him, he wonders? 

“Yeah, go to your room Peter. Have sex, and keep it quiet, or I’ll have to get my headphones...again.” Derek says.

“Fine.” Peter grumbles and looks off-put for a second before grabbing Chris around the waist and pulling him toward the staircase. “We will be continuing this discussion later Derek,” He turns his gaze toward Stiles, “and if you ever want to take up that offer just let me know.” He winks and Stiles flushes a little.

Stiles waits ‘til he hears the sound of footsteps echo above his head before a door slams and a loud thud sounds that gives way to something between a grunt and a moan.

“I’m sorry about that. They are a disgrace to everyone and I’m ashamed.” Derek says before walking over and awkwardly sitting beside Stiles on the couch.

“It’s alright, it’s not the first time to middle-aged dudes walked into where I was sleeping and began groping each other while I watched before offering me a spot in the action.” Derek looks over a little sharply at him. Stiles laughs. “Dude, I’m kidding. Believe it or not that was the first time.” 

Derek frowns a little before saying, “Don’t call me dude,” and walking back to the stairs. Stiles thinks Derek frowns a lot, but it’s kind of cute. The way his eyebrows furrow and lines and he looks a little like grumpy cat. Stiles chuckles a little as he thinks of Derek with whiskers before he lays back on the couch and falls into a dreamless sleep.

~.~

Stiles wakes to the smell of bacon and starts in his haste to get up. The blanket had been using wrapped around his legs and he fell of the sofa and tried to get to his feet again before popping his head above the back of the couch wiping drool from the side of his mouth and almost started drooling again. Derek was in the kitchen making bacon, and eggs, and gravy, and biscuits, and he was shirtless in nothing but thin blue and white striped pajama bottoms that clung to his ass and oh my god. His morning wood has officially turned into a just a normal boner cause ass, abs, and food. He pinched his arm to make sure this wasn’t a wet dream watching as Derek’s arm flexed as he moved the pan he was using to fry the bacon and eggs. Derek’s nostrils flared and cast his gaze toward Stiles with a smirk. He mentally berated himself. Werewolf, idiot. He probably can smell the lust coming of you in waves. Stiles took a moment to gather himself and calmed his body. He just hoped Derek either couldn’t smell his arousal over the scent of food, or just choked it up to a very good dream.

“So…” Stiles said as he made his way over to Derek in the kitchen and slipped into a spinning stool in front of the counter. “You going to share that?” He said making pointed eyes at the food all along the cooking area and stove.

Derek snorted and flipped and egg. “What do I get in exchange?” 

“What do you want?” Stiles asked not taking his eyes away from the pan. He heard Derek gulp and he looked up at him. Derek kinda looked flustered and put the pan down with a clang that startled both of them making them jump. 

Derek cleared his throat. “I’ll, um, get some plates. Peter and Cora should be getting down here soon, maybe Chris.” With that he walked over to the sink where he grabbed five plates down from a cabinet and began dosing out large portions of all the different mouth-watering morsels. 

Stiles waited patiently (Shut up, he was patient!) until Derek handed him a plate and tossed him a fork. Stiles attacked the plate like he was a lion and the food was a grazing gazelle. 

Derek seemed solemn. “If my cooking really that good? When was the last time you had real food?” Stiles frowned and tried to think back.

“I don’t really know. I had to leave town when I realized the Calaveras were on my tail. They had a tech guy who could trace my card whenever I used them, learned that the hard way, and I didn’t have very much cash on me. What little I did have bought me a cheap hotel room here and there. The last time I had a meal and not just a snack from a vending machine at like two a.m. was probably,” He paused and thought back. “Six months give or take. A small farm family let me spend the night with them when and they had dinner and let me tell you, it. Was. Glorious.” Stiles crammed some more bacon alongside a bite of biscuit.

“Jesus.” Derek whispered. “How long have you been running?”

“Two years, maybe? When I first ran I hitch hiked east. I made it all the way to Colorado before some of their family started pushing me back the other way. I was holed up in an abandoned factory in North Nevada when I heard a story about the nemeton.” Derek was looking at him intently and Stiles squirmed under the scrutiny. “On the bright side of things, I sure did give them hell.” Stiles smirked as he thought of a particularly awesome night when he was twenty.

~.~

Stiles was exhausted. He hadn’t managed to get much sleep in the last three days, what little he had was stolen naps in relatively secure areas for an hour or two. He was currently trying to buy a protein bar at a random gas in Creede, Colorado, it was summer and people had flooded in for vacation so he felt comfortable enough being out in the open. He hadn’t heard anything of the Calaveras being near him, so he walked around unafraid for the time being. 

“Four thirty-seven,” The young man behind the cash register said after he rang up the protein bar and bottle of water. Stiles slipped a hand into his pocket and brought out a five dollar bill. It was the last bit of money he had, but he was so hungry. His stomach was grumbling even as he stood there buying it. 

“Thanks,” Stiles said as he took back the coins and grabbed his items. He turned and began walking towards the door. He looked and saw a spanish man talking to a group of girls. The man was gesticulating wildly and making big eyes dramatically. He had a badge on his shirt, and if he hadn’t seen the Calaveras enough to see the resemblance between him and all the rest of the family, he might’ve just been a random cop. Stiles immediately hated him. This man was posing as a man of authority and leadership, he wasn’t a policeman, he was nothing like his father. If he wasn’t so scared he would’ve probably laughed. Only he would run into a Calavera posing as a cop to try andf catch him. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. His father a sheriff, him a criminal.

Stiles turned on his heel and began walking quickly towards the other door leading to the back entrance of the store. He glanced over his shoulder as he pushed open the door, the bell above the door dinging cheerfully. The man was walking toward the store now and didn’t seem to notice Stiles as he made his exit. He walked through the parking lot, he didn’t have to go far and he’d be in his hotel just had to act as casual as possible before then. He walked on, he had been doing a lot of that lately in fact. Walking, running, always running. He was always trying to make it to another town, another city, somewhere safe. It was a hard fact he said he accepted, but secretly didn’t that in fact there was no safe space. Everwhere he went there were hunters after him. The Calaveras weren’t a small family by no means and the list of contacts and dangerous friends they had was long and didn’t improve Stiles means of hiding out at all. He barely got into the next town over from escaping one set of threats before he would run into the other, sending him into a new spurt of adrenaline. One of the few things keeping him going anymore was adrenaline. 

“Hey, kid!” His heartbeat increased tenfold. 

‘Okay, okay. Don’t panic, if he had known who you was he wouldn’t have called you kid. In fact he wouldn’t have said anything, just a bash in the head with a bad, or maybe a gunshot.’ 

Stiles slowly turned. “Yes?” 

“You haven’t to have seen a young man about your age around here would you?” The man asked with a notepad in his hand as if taking a statement from a witness.

“Do you have a picture?” Stiles asked.

“No,” Thank God! “we have other witnesses who have identified him, if you think that would help?” Well that one wasn’t wonderful, but expected.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Stiles rubbed at the back of his neck, a nervous habit he picked up from his dad. It was always a pretty good tell his father thought. He’d ask Stiles if something and if he rubbed his neck he could usually tell he was lying. 

“Well, as I said earlier, he’s about your age, brown hair, brown eyes, about your height and…..wait a second.” The faux-cop narrowed his eyes slowly. 

“What is it?” Stiles asked faking nonchalance.

“You just… fit the description.” He paused as if in thought. “I’m going to have to ask you to-” That’s as far as he got, Stiles kicked him hard in the groin and brought his elbow down onto his back as the man doubled over. The man hit the ground with a thump and a groan. Stiles ran, he ran hard, that’s practically how he always ran now. He ran because he was chased. Simple as that.

“He’s here, headed southwest towards the town hall!” He heard the man report into his cell phone, they didn’t know where his hotel room was then. They thought he was headed towards town, perhaps he could use that. He ran until a curve appeared and the man lost sight of him. He dove into the woods, running, his legs ached. He was weak from lack of nutrition, though his muscles were strong. Throughout this entire escapade he had ran, and fought, and ran again, and that had built muscles, muscles he was extremely grateful for as he tripped over a root and tumbled to the ground. He rose to his feet quickly. This stretch of woods was short and if he had gotten it right would lead out into a rural area that was about a mile off from his hotel. He could run that, he just had to make sure that he stayed hidden and out of sight of any vans or strange men, well or women. He’d be beaten by a few women too. In fact they were the ones who seemed to find the most pleasure in beating him up. 

He was running and he loved it. He hated being chased, sure, but there was something about being able to run. Running for a cause, unfortunately that cause happened to be his continued existence on this earth, which wasn’t a very good thing in terms of his life. He likes his life, well it’s been a bit shitty lately, but he can’t deny he enjoys living. He does it daily, sort of a necessary thing to enjoy it. The feeling of his muscles burning just made everything come into clarity a bit more. The bit of pain cleared his foggy, hunger riddled brain that kept him in a constant state of grogginess. Suddenly he could think a bit more clearly. These were people who had hunted him and forced him into running, and he was tired. Man was he tired. He was tired of the running, of the hiding of the fear. He thought it might feel good to stand still for a bit. He listened behind him and hurt a shout and the rustling of boots on the earthen floor. Suddenly he had an apiphany. He was the monster! Why was he running from the humans who were supposed to fear him? He was running! From these mortals! He was tired, and he was hungry. In more than one way. Not only that turning in his stomach that meant he really needed that energy bar from the convenience store, but something else. A bit of a burning in his throat. His nose twitched, he smelt something. It was like a dense scent, smelled like bread. It was coming from the hunters. He didn’t like that smell. Smelt like confidence, like they knew they would win. He saw a clearing ahead of him, he kept running until he reached the edge of the meadow. He bent over catching his breath. He heard the crowd of people come to a standstill across the glen. 

“Finally decided that you were tired of running little monster?” A male voice with a thick spanish accent asked like he was smiling. 

Stiles huffed for a bit before regaining control of his breathing and turning around slowly. “Actually, yes.” Stiles said before turning and looking at the crowd gathered. Five men and three women with guns and bows drawn. The man who Stiles could only assume was the leader of this small hunting group. Stiles smirked slightly and the man smiled back with cruelty. Then Stiles smile dropped and his eyes glossed over into a darkness deeper than outer space. He smelled a twang of something come over the smell of bread. It smelled like oranges, and it smelled delicious. He looked at the man the front of the group and saw his smile drop. Before he knew what had happened he was less than a foot away with his hands gripping the man’s face. He looked into his eyes and saw the darkness that was deep within this man. He reached down and brought out the fear, the darkness and he revelled in it. He heard the unified screams of all the people gathered there before black. 

He woke up with a sharp crick in his neck, but that’s the only thing that hurt. In fact he hadn’t felt this good in months. He felt full and almost like an itch he hadn’t been able to scratch for forever had finally been sated. He looked up at the sky. Wait...sky? Oh, shit! He sat up quickly and blood rushed to his head as he groaned. His stomach felt over stuffed. He was laying in that same meadow….along with the corpses of the Calaveras. Pale as a ghost and all with looks of utter terror on their faces they aid still. Their hearts given out from the terror. He felt sick to his stomach. Did he do this to these people? He began to stand up and heard a whimper from behind his back. He had misjudged. Not all were dead. A young woman, only a few years older than him laid crying into and chanting in a dark mantra a resounding ‘no...no….no.’

He crawled over to her and tried to get her attention. “Hey.” He reached to touch her, but she jumped away.

“Please! No! No, no, no! NOOOOO!!!” At first he thought she was responding, but her eyes were glossy and distant. Looking somewhere over his shoulder. “Don’t! Please! Mommy..” She cried out and wept harder. He didn’t know what she saw, bit he knew that it wasn’t something he’d be interested in taking a part in. He stood up and left the poor girl quivering among her dead comrades. He didn’t know what he had just done, but he felt a stirring in his stomach. Even though he vowed to never cause that pain again, already he felt his fullness ebbing away. His future was unknown. He has always hated the unknown, that’s why he always investigated. The unknown was scaring, it held monsters and darkness. Though, now here he stood. The Monster. The Darkness, and he was utterly terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH NO!! Stiles has a dark side! How will this affect the future? Find out in the next installment of Even Fear, Fears Itself!


	3. Domestic Isn't So Bad?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of quality time before it all goes to shit! Oh, wait...spoilers..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um hiiiiiiiii. I haven't posted in like a fucking year, but I had been occasionally working on things and I noticed I had written a lot for this, but I had trouble determining a place to end the chapter. And I figured, hey today is my birthday so why not treat ya'll? So, the placement of the chapter break may be a bit strange, but I think I will be working on this more. I feel guilty... Oh and please forgive all the grammar and spelling mistakes. I don't have a beta reader and I really barely have time for anything. I just finished up a lab report on artificial selection and its now 3 am. Two final exams tomorrow. Wish me luck.

Derek had finished eating and had been making his way off to the door, leaving his coat. He was just going to end up sweating anyways. “I’m heading off on a run.” Derek announced as he grabbed the handle to the door of the loft.

“I’ll” He started and swallowed again, before going off into a coughing fit. “I’ll go with you.” 

 

Derek had look at him for a moment looking to see if he had any ulterior motive as to why he wanted to go with him. “Are you sure? I usually go pretty hard.” 

 

“I have no doubt,” Stiles winked and laughed. Derek blushed as he realized the innuendo. “No, but seriously. I’ve had to run more times than I can count in the last few months. You may run for fun, but I run for my life. I know what it means to go hard.” He added seriously. It was quiet for a moment, Stiles lost in thought of what has happened to him since his father’s death.

 

“Fine. I am not waiting up though. Keep up with me and we won’t have an issue.” Stiles rocked forward onto his toes before leaving out the door. Derek followed behind him. Derek tried not to look, he really, really did, but that ass. Seriously, he couldn’t stop himself from sneaking a glance as they walked down the hallway. They got to the top of the stairs leading down from the large iron double doors that held his whole life. Stiles began walking down with Derek following behind him. 

 

“Do you go running a lot?” Stiles asked as he turned around.

 

Derek didn’t respond for a moment, he hadn’t noticed how engrossed he had become with watching Stiles walk. Stiles looked at him and noticed his line of sight and threw him a sly smirk before turning back around and continued walking. His face got a slight pink tint to it as he followed the mysterious man.

 

“I tend to go running most mornings, if I don’t then it’s usually some other exercise. Every once and awhile I will work on my upper body.” Derek informed on their way to the camaro.

 

They reached the car and he began to walk around to the driver’s side, but before he could Stiles was there in front of him….opening the door. Like, legit opening the car door for him like this was some kind of eighties sitcom and the main male lead was taking his date to the prom. Derek was a little hurt in his manhood, but considering Stiles could literally make him relive his worst moments if he got too emotional and he was just trying to be nice, with that stupid fucking grin of his as he waited patiently for Derek to respond, he chose just to slide into the car with a ‘thank you’ nod. Stiles beamed and ran back around to the passenger side before buckling in and messing with his shirt. Derek was a little embarrassed about the whole sneaking a peak and the door thing so he resolved to be extra sulky today on the run. Stiles was just a monster he was letting sleep on his couch because…..wait. Why was he letting this happen again? He almost killed his sister and him with fear and had the power to destroy and kill half the town. Still, something about him made Derek want to trust him. He seemed like he wouldn’t hurt anyone intentionally. For now he could stay, but Derek needed to not get blindsided by his crush and let his guard down. He couldn’t be responsible for more deaths. If he hurt anyone else like he did his father he could do the same to his pack. He couldn’t be the cause of even more death. 

 

“So, am I meeting the pack today?” Stiles asked in a voice that was complete innocence, snapping Derek out of his depressing spiral.

 

“Yeah.” He was sticking to this silent thing as best he could for now. Stiles was looking at him expectantly, waiting for more information. “They’re coming over about three o’clock. They’ve become kind of engrossed in the fact that I’m letting a potential killer sleep on my couch.” Derek looked over at Stiles with a straight face and raised an eyebrow.

 

“And what, pray tell, is making you allow me to stay in your lovely home?” Stiles asked and Derek had a brief moment of speechless again. It would be much too difficult to explain his weird, explicit trust of an almost complete stranger. He at least knew his name and learnt he hadn’t intentionally tried to kill multiple people.

 

“Well,” Derek began. “I figure with you in my sight I can prevent you from ransacking the entire town and killing the people under my protection.” From the way Stiles face fell a bit and he focused back on the road Derek hadn’t been the most tactful with that bit of the conversation. At least it was true, well partially.

 

“Welp,” Stiles said popping the P and putting up another cheery facade. “When will we be running? Hmm?” 

 

“In one moment, I tend to run the perimeter of the preserve so -” Derek was cut off by Stiles amused look. “What?” He demanded.

 

“Nothing.” Stiles paused, for dramatic effect Derek supposed. “Just, how often do you do a perimeter check?”

 

“This isn’t a check, I’m just running. I like to run.” 

 

“No, no. I get that, I do, but it just cracks me up that you act like a big tough alpha but you prance around your territory like an overeager puppy growling at the grasshoppers in his territory.” Stiles said as he looked out the window smirking.

 

“I am not a puppy, nor do I growl at grasshoppers.” Derek said, shooting Stiles an offended look.

 

“You keep telling yourself that Mr. Scary-Puppy.” Stiles said patting Derek on the shoulder. Derek could’ve probably thought of a witty retort, but Stiles kept his hand on his shoulder as he went down the road and Derek couldn’t focus on anything other than the warmth of Stiles’ hand. He seemed slim in the clothes that dwarfed him, but despite this he seemed to run very hot. Maybe it was still the effects of what the Hunters had done, either way it was nice.

 

Derek pulled up to the clearing where he usually began and ended his runs. “We’re here.” He said and opens the door to the Camaro.

 

“I don’t see any paths..?” Stiles asked as he got out.

 

“Paths? They’re for the weak.” Derek said smirking before taking off into the woods, avoiding roots and the treacherous foliage on the ground. 

 

There was an indignant huff as Stiles began to take off after him. “Wait for me! God, no more gentleman.” Stiles mumbled, but Derek could still hear him as he chased after him. Sure he wasn’t always up to be chased, but hey Stiles was a predator, let’s see if he could catch his prey. Derek let Stiles get a bit closer before speeding up some more.

 

“Oh, so it’s gonna be like that huh?” Stiles asked speeding up as well.

 

“Catch me boogeyman!” Derek threw over his shoulder before losing himself in the feeling of running. He was running playful, Stiles getting close before he ducked to the side dodging Stiles advances. It felt nice to let go for a bit. Let himself relive some of the fun of his youth. He always loved tag, there was always something so primal about it. Someone was prey, the other predator and it was survival of the fittest and he wasn’t going to lie Stiles was pretty fit. He was so lost in his own thoughts of his past and remembering and Laura running through the woods growling and tackling each other he didn’t notice a root running right by his foot. Stiles was right behind him reaching out trying to tag him. 

 

“I’ve got you-” Derek swerved to the right with Stiles following and tripped over the root, landing face first in the dirt and Stiles following right behind him, Stretched across his back. 

 

Stiles moaned in pain from where Derek had tried stopping himself just to elbow Stiles in the gut. Stiles was fully flopped down over his back, his face directly over his clothed tattoo.

 

“I thought you knew these woods like the back of your hands?” Stiles asked, his voice muffled from where his face was shoved into Derek’s back.

 

“Well, I was a bit distracted.” Derek said, attempting to turn over. Stiles moaned in pain again.

 

“You saying I distracted you Clumsy Wolf?” Stiles gritted out.

 

“Are you hurt? You sound hurt.” Derek said when he flipped around and Stiles fell to the forest floor. 

 

“Um..Well. I know that I’m supposed to be like a badass fear man guy, but I uh am still a man and on the way down you kinda kneed me in the balls.” Stiles said, sitting indian style whilst holding his groin and moaning.

 

Derek was on his knees awkwardly wondering how to help Stiles. It’s not as if he could very well ask to see the ‘area’. Though, different circumstances yes he may have done just that because Stiles shirt had snagged on a tree branch in the fall and had torn most of right side off, exposing his torso. Derek had thought him slim but he was muscled, hot damn. He didn’t have cut in stone six pack abs, but for some reason it just made him hotter. He was lean and fit and had a very nice happy trail. Derek jerked his eyes away before he had to hold his groin for separate reasons and tuned back into what Stiles was saying.

 

“-stly though, you trip and barely have a hair out of place and I got fucking blasted in my nads and basically got to second base with a tree limb.” Stiles said seeming to be feeling slightly better.

 

“Is ther-” Stiles stretched and his stomach flexed. Derek cleared his throat. “Is there anything that I can do?” Derek asked.

 

“Um, yeah. No mention of this to anyone. Good thing it wasn’t a hard knee. Like it was one of those sick to your stomach for five minutes ones not the throw up and never having kids one.” Stiles said standing and looking down at his ruined shirt. He sighed. “This is my only shirt. Looks like I’ll be wearing my hoodie a lot more often.” Stiles mumbled before looking up. 

 

“You want to head back to the loft?” Derek asked.

 

“Fuck no, I nearly caught you and you ruined it by tripping. Better run fast, Imma get you.” Stiles smirked. “I’ll give you a three second head start.” 

 

“You sure?” 

 

“One.” Stiles said tapping his foot.

 

Derek took off as fast he could and laughed as he heard stiles hastily mumble, “Two, three!” before the sound of fast approaching footsteps.

 

…

 

Stiles was sweaty, stinky, and had a torn shirt and pants with grass stains on them, but he basked in victory on the ride back to the loft. It took about twenty minutes into the run before he caught Derek, but Stiles was used to running for a long time and Derek just had a bunch of power in his legs, which they were nice legs, muscular legs. He liked Derek’s legs.

 

“You can actually say the boogeyman caught you and you lived. Congrats Derek.” Stiles beamed in victory.

 

“I let you win, I felt bad for your injured manhood.” Derek said, clearly lying.

 

“Sounds more like to me you’re trying to maintain your manhood. A scrawny twenty-one year old best the big bad wolf.” Stiles taunted which Derek answered with a growl. “Yeah growl all you want, I won.” 

 

Derek remained silent after that while Stiles reveled in his victory. It only took them a few more moments before they were pulling up to the loft and Derek and Stiles were heading up the elevator. They pulled open the door to Peter lounging on the sofa with a book, loking wholy uninterested.

 

“Ah, Nephew!” He exclaimed and his eyes tore over to where Stiles’ shirt had been ripped. “Woah, Derek I thought you might be rough in bed, but honestly his shirt didn’t need defacing.” Peter chuckled.

 

Stiles looked over to Derek’s reddening face and could’ve died from pure adorableness. He didn’t see how anyone could be scared of him. He was like a puppy being upset. Which still is adorable. “Actually,” Stiles said walking into the space. “I was just besting Derek in a game of tag when a tree attacked me.” 

 

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Derek never was very good at tag.”

 

“Oh be quiet, I am wonderful at tag, Stiles just tends to last longer than me.” Derek said.

 

“I wouldn’t mind finding that out for myself.” Peter said sending a seductive look towards Stiles.

 

“Everything is an innuendo with you isn’t Peter?” Stiles asked incredulous.

 

“I find life is more fun that way.” 

 

“Well, I’m assuming you guys have a shower, right?” Stiles asked. “I just defeated a very hard opponent in a game gruesome game and I’m sorta sweaty.” 

 

“Upstairs, third door on the right. Do you need a towel or anything?” Derek asked.

 

“I actually don’t have any other clothes than this except for an extra pair of pants at my hotel room, but I think the Calaveras are watching it.” Stiles was a bit embarrassed to have to ask. “Do you have any clothes that I could borrow?” 

 

“You look like you’re about Scott’s size, the pack will be heading over is a bit, I could ask him to bring over some things?” Derek asked almost like he was afraid Stiles would say he’d rather go naked, like Stiles was that comfortable with his body.

 

“That’ll be fine, but like I also don’t have any underwear..?” Stiles asked, the back of his neck heating up.

 

“Uh, well. I could ask him to bring some of those too?” Derek asked nervously before quickly adding, “But like new. I’ll get him to pick some up from the store.” 

 

“Thanks. Towels?” Stiles asked one last time as he made his way up the spiral staircase.

 

“In the drawer under the sink.” Derek answered.

 

“Thanks..again.” Stiles made his way up the stairs wondering why exactly that was as awkward as that was.

 

He walked down a simple hallway, gray just like the rest of the home. He got that they’re like some badass werewolf pack too busy being epic to paint the house, but I mean it was just so barren. Not exactly...homey. 

 

He found the bathroom, it wasn’t too big, but it had a shower. Looked like a nice one too, all tall and with the detachable shower head thingy. A small toilet and sink. Everything you need to consider it a fully functional bathroom. He walked over to the sink and looked at himself in the mirror and almost cringed. He wasn’t looking too hot. He was used to it though, the dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, the slightly bloodshot eyes, he wouldn’t be surprised if he went gray before thirty.

 

He sighed before peeling off his ripped shirt. He lifted his arm to smell his armpit and immediately regretted. Why do people do that? Like he knew it would smell bad, but he still did it? He shook his head before lowering his arm again and grabbing the waistband of his pants and slipping out of them along with his underwear. He grabbed the hot and cold knobs, turning before he found the perfect temperature. Just a bit off scolding. 

 

He stepped into the shower and moaned from the feeling. Sure, yes of course he’d had showers while running, but he could only ever occasionally afford a motel and when he could they were always those crappy ones where the water pressure makes you stand against the wall so it’d hit you. It felt nice to have the pressure on him. Drained all his nerves and he was finally able to relax a little bit. He looked up and saw some body wash on the rack and grabbed it. White Citrus. Stiles approves. It was pretty subtle, which he guessed would be a good thing for werewolves whose super smelling would be irritated with any overly strong smells. 

 

Stiles squeezed some of the soap out on hand and began to lather up his chest, his hand trailing down his chest playing with the hairs that trailed down his chest onto his stomach. He’s not sure what got ahold of him, maybe the way the water was making him feel more renewed than he had in a long time, maybe the safety of the loft, or maybe it had just built up from so long he had had actually jerked off, but suddenly he started to get hard. He took his soapy hand and trailed it down until it wrapped around his cock. He thought of different scenarios, first it was just a random man he imagined on his knees taking him into his mouth and as he pumped his shaft. Soon though it transformed into Derek on his knees, wrapping his lips around the head of his dick, tongue teasing the head and the slit before sucking him down, his tongue teasing him like it was meant to be doing this. Forget eating, talking, Derek’s tongue was meant to be coaxing his dick to orgasm. He braced his hand against the wall, leaning back and speeding up his pumping. He imagined pulling his dick out of Derek’s mouth and spewing all over his face and tongue as his orgasm coursed through him. He stood there for a second feeling the afterglow of his orgasm. He felt loose and a bit sleepy, but he shook of the sleepiness and washed off the body wash. He washed his body before going to shampoo his hair.

 

He stepped out of the shower, toweling himself off realizing he’d just came imagining Derek. He couldn’t afford that, nope. Yes, Derek was burning like fire and yes he flirted with him, but no, not ever, never was he going to risk the only solace he has found from the imminent death on his heels. He could fantasize about Derek all he wanted, but he would not be acting on a single one of those thoughts. Just think if Derek was forced to make a decision of his pack or Stiles. He couldn’t do that to him, besides it would be the pack. He was just a random guy strolling through, running from his past with death following him. 

 

Face it, Stilinski the only chance you have at actual romance could only happen if you ended up killing all of the Calaveras, which is not an option. You kinda vowed to not kill people if possible.

 

Stiles sighed drying himself off. He reached over and cracked open the door, still no clothes for him. Maybe they were waiting downstairs? They were wolves, maybe they were used to people walking around in just a towel? Either way, guess he’d find out.

 

Wrapping the towel around his waist and slicking his hair back he walked to the end of the hall and began to descend the staircase. He was halfway down the staircase looking around if he saw anyone, but apparently Peter had left or was in his room and he couldn’t see Derek anywhere.

 

“Hello?” He asked as he stepped onto the loft’s floor. “Derek?”

 

Derek came walking in from the kitchen holding a plate of sandwiches, walking backwards so he could push the door open.

 

“Yeah, I’m here.” Derek said, beginning to turn. “I was just getting so-” Derek stopped mid sentence with his mouth hanging open a sandwich falling off the plate comically. “You’re naked.” 

 

Stiles flushed. “Um yeah. You hadn’t got me any clothes yet.” Stiles scratched the back of his neck.

 

“I left you a robe by the door. Didn’t you see it?” Derek asked and Stiles kinda wanted to cover his body with the way Derek seemed to be talking to his stomach.

 

“There was no robe by the door.” Stiles answered crossing his arms, trying to cover himself. Derek’s stares were very flattering, but uh kind of unnerving. He was pretty scrawny and you could see more muscle with Derek wearing a shirt than Stiles wearing nothing.

 

Derek looked confused for a second, “I swear I..” A look of realization seemed to hit him. “Peter!” He growled out. Hearing a giddy chuckle from upstairs he concluded he agreed with Derek. 

 

“Now, not that I don’t find this familial teasing thing you have going on to be fun,” Stiles said to Derek who was looking at the ceiling in anger. “but there there’s an updraft and I would prefer not to look like Marilyn Monroe.” 

 

“Oh, uh yeah. I’ll go get you anoth-” He was cut off by the sound of knocking.

 

“Derek! I’m here! Open up!” Stiles heard a voice call from the other side of the door. 

 

Derek had moment as he looked around for a place to set down the sandwiches and Stiles couldn’t help but grin at how much he looked like a lost puppy, or maybe a teenager trying to figure out where to sit. Whatever, they’re basically the same thing.

 

Stiles moved to behind the couch where if his towel did come loose or something the couch would keep him modest from the new guy.

 

Derek opened the door and in barged a brown skinned boy with a crooked jaw line and Stiles honestly believed that no one could look more like a puppy than Derek, but here was this guy practically wagging his tail as he handed a shopping bag over to Derek. Stiles decided he liked this guy, he seemed decidedly like someone who wouldn’t kill you on a whim, which Stiles valued highly in terms of things he prefers in friends.

 

The boy looked over to Stiles as his eyes widened. “Is this him, Derek?”

 

“Scott, meet Stiles. Stiles, Scott.” Derek said setting the sandwiches down on the table along with the bag holding Stiles’ dignity.

 

“Hi!” Scott rushed over and shook Stiles’ hand. “I’m Scott. Me and Derek are the Alpha’s of the pack.” Scott let his eyes flash red.

 

Stiles was genuinely shocked. “I thought there could only be one alpha in a pack?” Stiles asked shaking Scott’s hand and forgetting his nudity.

 

“Traditionally? Yes, only one alpha in a pack, but Scott here became a true alpha after a run in we had with an Alpha Pack, and they just kind of shot the whole ‘one alpha’ thing to pieces so we figured we’d give it a shot.” Derek explained to Scott’s enthusiastic head nods.

 

“Oh, well. That is, truly, very fascinating, I am one hundred percent on board with shooting up rules, but I do still enjoy the ‘no public nudity one’ so if you please.” Stiles said holding on his hand for the bag. 

 

“Oh! Right, yeah sorry.” Scott said as he hurriedly grabbed the bag from Derek and handed it to Stiles. 

 

Stiles gave a small nod before heading into the kitchen to change. Closing the door behind him opened the bag to see what he had to work with. Being on the run didn’t leave much time for fashion, but then again he wasn’t running right now.

 

The bag held a red V-neck with buttons running down the collar, with a leather shirt pocket. He wasn’t exactly expecting something like that, but hey it was probably one of the most expensive pieces of clothing he’d worn since he’d been running and would end up wearing the same ratty black shirt for days on end. Next was some, wow okay, also stylish sweatpants. Literally what the hell, he understood that this was Scott’s clothes, but if it had been him he probably wouldn’t of tried to style the man he was supposed to pick up clothes for instead of just grabbing some old stuff of his. He knew the underwear was bought new which was helpful. Simple boxer briefs. Store brand and cheap, this he could understand, but the rest? He even brought him some high top sneakers, and like everything else, they look they hadn’t ever been fucking worn. Was this Scott like some kind of upper east end girl or some shit? Like why did he have this stuff? If he remembered right Scott was out there wearing a tank top and jeans so why would he bring Stiles this stuff? Well, beggars can’t be choosers and besides, it’s nice stuff. Why shouldn’t he enjoy a bit of glamour? 

 

He slipped the clothes on and stepped back out into the main area of the loft where Scott and Derek had settled on the couch.

 

“Um, Scott, Dude. Isn’t this stuff kind of like nice?” He asked as Scott turned to look at him.

 

“Yep, never been worn.” Scott said from his seat on the couch.

 

“Then why did you give them to me?” Stiles asked incredulously.

 

“Is it so hard to believe I just wanted you to look nice?” Scott said innocently before adding. “And Lydia bought those for me and they’re not my style. She disagreed, but better suited for you I swear!” 

 

Hey, if he wants rid of them he’ll take them. Now he has two shirts to his name. Well, this shirt and the remains of a shirt, which. “Hey, Derek, what should I do with my other clothes?” 

 

Derek had his mouth hanging open and had been looking Stiles up and down this whole time. “Huh?” He asked, getting a knowing smirk from Scott before snapping out of it. “Oh! You can go put the things you can still wear in the washer and I’ll wash them soon. 

 

“Okay, thanks. I’ll be right back.” Stiles said before heading up to get his discarded belongings.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, Comments, Subscriptions! My Tumblr is at the end of the story.


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